


Always and Only

by svana_vrika



Category: Free!
Genre: Adults, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Grinding, M/M, Possessive Nanase Haruka, Tokyo (City)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 15:53:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17490878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svana_vrika/pseuds/svana_vrika
Summary: Even the most intuitive can be blind to the obvious. Especially if it involves themselves.





	Always and Only

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dizzydodo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dizzydodo/gifts).



> **Disclaimer** This story is an original work of fan-fiction. The Free! franchise and its characters, props and settings are the intellectual property of Masahiro Yokotani, Kyoto Animation and Animation Do. The quote is from the Gensomaden Saiyuki series, which is the intellectual property of Minekura Kazuya. I just borrowed from both for a few thousand words of entertainment. No copyright infringements are intended, and I will make no profit from their use.
> 
>  **Warnings** Snippets of spoilers from throughout the series

_…Who do you suppose decided that birds are free? Even if they can fly as they please, if there is no place to rest their wings, they might come to resent them. Perhaps true freedom means having somewhere to go home to._

A kite’s call drew Haruka’s eyes up from the water, and the words drifted through his mind as he watched the bird glide and then flap until he caught a different current to soar upon. He couldn’t recall where he’d heard them. Likely some old anime, he thought as a barely-there memory of socked feet and zabutons and small hands bumping in a shared bowl of popcorn filtered through next. Makoto’s hand. It had to be. Nobody else was, or ever had been, that close, that familiar, and in his pocket, Haruka’s fingers lightly curled in toward his palm as if they were recalling every other time their hands had found each other’s. His brow furrowed, and his gaze dropped to the ocean again. There was a truth to those words. Haruka had always had a home. However, save for the structure itself, home had never been consistent. Death. Work. An injury. A whim. His family came and went. But there were other places where Haruka had found the stability that let him be free. 

Makoto and the water were Haruka’s two constants. Ever there, always present; for as far back as his memories went, he’d had them both. When he couldn’t reach the one, he usually could the other. And when one couldn’t comfort him, the other usually could. Granted, there had been times when neither of them had been able to. When his grandmother had passed. When he’d thought he’d made Rin quit swimming. When he’d been so utterly lost as nationals had approached. Haruka’s fingers curled in tighter as he thought about the night when it had all become too much and he’d finally lost it; how he’d violently pushed Makoto away from him and the awful things he’d said. Makoto _could_ be a meddler, and he was certainly a mother hen. But it was who Makoto was and how he’d always been. He hadn’t deserved to take the brunt of Haruka’s frustration and fear, and even now, months later, shame still burned through Haruka when he would think of it, though he knew Makoto had forgiven him as soon as the words had left him and before Makoto had been able to hide the shocked hurt that had darkened his eyes. 

Rin had saved him then. Had helped him find his perspective and place again. Had made him finally see that wanting to swim just for swimming’s sake _could_ be a viable future and dream. Beyond that, it was because of Rin, in a round-about fashion, that the scout from Hidaka University had even given him a second glance after the mental stress had cost him the 100m freestyle at Regionals. Haruka had no clue what Mikoshiba Seijuro had said to convince the man to give him a shot despite it, but he did know that he would have been just another swimmer to Mikoshiba if it hadn’t been for his friendship with Rin. And being at Hidaka meant that he hadn’t had to distance himself from either Makoto or the water. Both were still well within his reach. 

Haruka owed a lot to Rin.

The kite called again and, again, Haruka’s eyes rolled upward. Those words from before came back to his mind and he quietly sighed. He supposed that Rin was another constant that being free had come to depend upon. Their rivalry pushed and inspired him, and Rin had a way of forcing him to see past the blinders that would slip into place when things became too complicated or troublesome to bother with. But that hadn’t been the reason for the sigh. It was more that he’d come to need Rin’s perspective again that had drawn it; that he was at a point where he was feeling lost again, and he didn’t know what to do. And he couldn’t talk to Makoto because Makoto was at the heart of it. 

Changes changed Makoto, at least until Makoto had found his place and had figured out how he fit in. It wasn’t anything new to Haruka, just another one of those things that made Makoto who he was. But it still made Haruka feel on edge. Makoto didn’t need to change. Makoto was Makoto and he was fine just how he was: the Makoto that Haruka needed. Makoto had said to Haruka more than once that he thought that Haruka couldn’t survive without water, but Makoto was wrong—or only partially right. Makoto was as essential to him as the water was. Nonetheless, as they’d gotten ready to make the move from Iwatobi to Tokyo, Haruka had mentally prepared himself for (and resigned himself to!) the inevitable _weirdness_ that he’d known would creep into Makoto’s behaviors and thoughts. Though, Haruka would also admit that, between that initial rush of new classes, and practices and tournaments, and reconnecting with Asahi and Kisumi and getting things with Ikuya sorted out, Makoto’s issues with change hadn’t impacted him much, because _everything_ had been weird. However, now—

“Yo.” The familiar, drawled greeting broke off the thought and Haruka looked over to his left as Rin’s arms settled onto the guardrail beside his own. 

“Rin.” Haruka’s pensive expression broke for a slight smile. 

“Hey, I know this place,” Rin blurted before Haruka could say anything further, and he pointed to the vacant shoreline below. “That’s the beach Makoto brought us to after the All-Japan Invitational! What?” he demanded when Haruka looked at him flatly. “I never knew the name, so I didn’t connect it when you gave it to me for the taxi driver.” 

“Right. Sorry.” 

“You should be,” Rin lightly groused. “I wouldn’t have changed plans and trekked out here for just anyone, you know.” 

Haruka turned fully to look at Rin. “You’re the one who texted and wanted to meet up during your layover for the train. You said to pick someplace between the airport and station. This is.” 

“Tch.” Rin rolled his eyes. “And you’re still clueless when it comes to subtle humor.” 

“Oh. Is that what that was?” 

“Shut it, Nanase,” Rin gave back with a petulant scowl. Haruka turned back to rest his arms along the railing again and let a smile show to the beach. “Makoto working?” 

Haruka’s smile fell at Rin’s question. He could feel the tension gather between his shoulder blades and neck and he took a quiet breath to dispel it. “No. He’s out with a friend.” 

“What?” Haruka glanced at Rin, saw the incredulous look on his face. “He blew me off? _Makoto_?”

“No.” Haruka looked back at the ocean. “I didn’t tell him you were coming. I didn’t want him here.” Rin was still gaping at him, he could feel it. That tension knotted tighter and he lightly clenched his jaw as he stared stonily out at the water. After a moment or two, he felt Rin shift, settle his arms back on the railing, and he breathed just a little bit easier again. He felt stupid enough as it was. He didn’t need Rin gawping at him like he was some idiot on display. 

“So, what’s going on? You two have another fight?” 

“No.” Haruka’s hands tightened against his forearms. This was stupid. He’d been glad when the opportunity to talk to Rin had presented itself; he would have felt even lamer if he would have had to ask to talk to him. But that didn’t make him any more eager to discuss what was going on in his head. It was personal and private, and made him feel stupid, petty and small. He had to, though. He knew that. The confusion and doubt were costing him; his times were slipping, what little patience Azuma did have was wearing thin—

“Tch. I swear to god…” 

Haruka blinked, Rin’s muttering breaking through his thoughts. He looked over, leaned back when Rin abruptly elbowed him as he stuck his hand into his coat pocket. His brow arched when Rin pulled out his phone and then he felt a flicker of panic. He didn’t yet know what he was going to say, but he had to get it out, and he couldn’t talk to anyone about it but Rin. “Rin, wa—”

“If you won’t talk to me then I’ll ask Makoto myself,” Rin finished over him. 

Haruka’s eyes went wide as that panic shifted and then surged; that was worse than the thought of Rin calling a taxi and bailing, and he frantically grabbed for Rin’s phone. “No, don’t!” 

Irritation flashed through Rin’s eyes and he jerked his hand free, holding the phone beyond Haruka’s reach. “Why the hell not?” 

“He’s—” 

“I heard you the first time! He’s out with a friend! But if y—” Rin stopped abruptly then, and Haruka felt his face grow warm as comprehension dawned in Rin’s eyes. “Oh, Haru.” 

Rin laughed then and Haruka’s face got hotter, his gut gnawing lightly with his embarrassment. “What?” he demanded, eyes narrowed, mouth curved down, hands lightly clenching into fists. 

Rin shook his head, his amusement still clear. “Nothing. I just guess it really does take a bit of competition to push you into action.” 

Rin’s flippant response to his problem irritated Haruka like only Rin could. “This isn’t a competition, Rin. It’s Makoto!” he said heatedly, forgetting that he hadn’t even talked to Rin about it yet. Haruka jerked his head to the side as the thought belatedly came to him. So what did that mean then, that Rin had still homed in on it so easily?

“Sorry.” Haruka looked back at Rin. Rin was sober now. Contrite. After a moment, Haruka gave a single nod, and then he looked to the water again. “Haru, come on,” Rin said after another few seconds of silence had passed. “Makoto loves you! Has since we were kids! You have to know that. Hell, anyone who’s spent more than a couple minutes with the two of you does.” 

“Makoto loves everyone,” Haruka gave back stubbornly, clinging to it in his awkwardness. Rin chuckled again, but it was a different sound this time, soft and affectionate.

“Alright. Fair enough. I mean, the guy almost cried when he found out Sousuke’s surgery was successful, and they’ve talked maybe a dozen times, if that. But Haru—” Rin made an impatient sound and the next thing Haruka knew, Rin’s hand was tight on his left bicep as he forced him face-to-face again. “Haru, Makoto _loves_ you. Not the nice guy love; the big, forever love. You don’t think that _I want to support the swimming world_ spiel was really for me or anyone else, do you?” he asked as he dropped his hold on Haruka’s arm. “You have to know that his dream, his _real_ dream, is to be part of yours!” 

Myriad memories flooded through Haruka’s mind as Rin spoke. The looks Makoto would give him. His touches. The times Makoto had come to his defense. The times he’d held his tongue. The way Makoto’s smile lit a room whenever Haruka came into it, and how Makoto knew him better than anyone; the way Makoto looked as if he’d just been handed the world whenever he made Haruka smile and how broken and lost Makoto had appeared that night they’d fought and Haruka had turned his back and had run from him. If that was what Rin had meant, then he supposed he did know that Makoto loved him. It was in everything Makoto was, in everything he did, Haruka realized and, now that he consciously knew, his chest hurt from the hugeness of it and he felt he could hardly breathe. 

“So, who is this friend, anyway?” 

Haruka blinked, the question catching him off-guard as it broke through his thoughts. “Mochizuki Yuuma. He was in Makoto’s homeroom class our first year in middle school.”

“I see.” Rin shifted so that his back was against the railing. “Were they close then?”

Myriad images from that year raced through Haruka’s mind; his lips pressed, and he glanced off to the side. “They were friendly.” 

Rin laughed again. “That doesn’t mean anything. Makoto, remember?” he lightly teased with a gentle nudge of his hip against Haruka’s. Haruka just nodded, and Rin sighed. “Let me guess. They lost touch for whatever reason, and somehow they’ve hooked up—er, found each other again,” he hastily corrected at the look Haruka gave him.

“Kisumi,” Haruka informed dourly. “Asahi’s sister owns a coffee shop. Mochizuki came in while he was there. He remembered Kisumi, and that he used to hang around us, and he asked after Makoto.” His fingers loosely curled in toward his palms, and he looked back at Rin. “And I know. That Makoto loves me,” he elaborated when Rin gave him a puzzled look. 

“And you love him.” 

Haruka’s fingers curled tighter and he looked away; after another second, he gave a single nod. He hadn’t been sure what it was he’d been feeling ever since Makoto had started hanging out with Mochizuki. He’d recognized the jealousy, of course—it wasn’t the first time he’d experienced that when it came to Makoto—but he hadn’t known its source until just then, when he’d started thinking about Makoto’s feelings toward him and how they made _him_ feel. He understood now though. That big love was in the little things, like how he felt as he waited for Makoto’s smile every morning. How he still caught himself hesitating, waiting for Makoto’s hand when he’d push out of the pool. How nauseatingly frightened he’d been when the ocean had nearly taken Makoto from him, and how guilty he’d felt and how disgusted he’d been with himself when he’d hurt Makoto so badly. He was jealous because he loved Makoto, and he had for a very long time. He’d been jealous then, of Kisumi, of Mochizuki, and he was jealous of Mochizuki now, because he loved Makoto and because Makoto was his.

“Hah. Knew it.” The murmured comment earned Rin a quick glare, but he was completely unphased by it. “But you haven’t told him,” Rin continued, suddenly serious again. “And that’s why you’re worried about this Mochizuki guy.” 

Haruka’s shoulders tensed and he looked away again. “Makoto is Makoto,” he defended tautly, and with more confidence than he felt, he added. “He knows.” 

“You’re right,” Rin agreed, which drew Haruka’s gaze back again. “He probably does. He _has_ always been able to read and understand you better than anyone. Even yourself sometimes, I think. But like you said, Makoto is Makoto. I might not know him like you do, but I know enough. He’s taken his signals from you for years over anything important. He struggles with having confidence sometimes, and he relies on you—”

“You make Makoto sound weak when you talk like that,” Haru broke in to say. His eyes narrowed slightly. “He isn’t.” 

“Tch. Overprotective much? I swear, how you didn’t know before tonight how the two of you felt about each other is beyond me,” Rin muttered with a roll of his eyes. “And don’t tell me you did, Haru,” he continued when Haruka parted his lips to protest. “You’re pretty damned intuitive about others, but when it comes to yourself, sometimes you’re completely oblivious until someone puts it in front of your face. Besides, if you really knew before how he felt, and how you felt, we wouldn’t be having this conversation because you two would have already hooked up.” Rin smirked. “You’re like me that way. When you know what you want, you’re not the kind of guy to leave anything to chance. You go after it.”

“Whatever.” It was disconcerting that Rin had seen right though him, but it didn’t change the fact that Rin was right. And he knew that Rin knew it, too. It practically rolled off of him. Haruka wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of saying it, though, and he pointedly ignored the part of his brain that reminded him that this was what he’d wanted: Rin to force him along until he saw things clearly, like when Rin had dragged him to Australia. 

“Whatever,” Rin echoed flatly and then he sighed. “Anyway, I never said Makoto was weak. Hell, we’ve both had confidence issues and have leaned on others to get us through them… Yeah, okay. Maybe not the best example,” he cut himself off with a sheepish chuckle. “But your happiness is everything to him, Haru. All he’s ever wanted is for you to be free to be you and to live how you want to. Even back when we were kids, he was super protective of that. So between that and his fear of loss—” Rin shrugged. “If he had to pick between silently loving you and the risk of pushing you away with a misassumption, he’d take the silence. I mean, look what’s happened the few times he _has_ spoken his mind to you, ne?”

Haruka’s lips pressed again and he glanced away. “I know.” 

“ _I know. I know._ ” Haruka’s hand tightened around his forearm at the mimicry. “Then if you do, and you’re really that worried about this other guy, do something. I still say it would never happen, but I guess the two of you have never been apart like this before, either. I mean, he’s not just down the stairs and around the corner anymore. Is that it?” Rin asked after a pause. 

“What?” 

“What’s got you so freaked out. The distance thing?” 

“I’m not freaked out,” Haruka refuted. “But maybe it’s part of it,” he said reluctantly after. Walks to and from school. Classes together. Lunches. Training. Meets. Just hanging out. He and Makoto had been together nearly every day for years and, for the last several, Haruka had spent more time with Makoto than his own family. “I knew it would be different once we came here. We’re at different schools. We’re doing different things. But there isn’t really an off-season at this level. And I have training with Azuma on top of practice with the team. Sometimes it works out that we can meet and study. We swim together at the pool he works at when we can.”

“But?” Rin prodded.

Haruka’s lips pressed slightly. “Mochizuki’s moving to Tokyo to start at Oudokan University at the semester. He only knows Kisumi and Makoto, and Kisumi is busy with his clubs.”

“So Makoto has been showing this Mochizuki around, probably taking meals with him… maybe Mochizuki’s crashed at his place a couple times so he didn’t have to keep coming back and forth while he looks for a place of his own?” 

Haruka nodded. “Yeah. And the past couple of times I’ve called Makoto to let him know I have time free, he’s put me off until later in the evening. Tonight, he told me he couldn’t meet up at all.” 

“Because of Mochizuki.” 

“Yeah.” 

Rin’s phone went off then and, while he answered it, Haruka turned his gaze back to the water. A couple of postponed… dates? Would they even be called dates? It was weird to think about because, back at home, they just would have met on the steps between their houses and gone together, and even now they weren’t really a couple… Haruka huffed softly at the diversion his brain had taken and his lips turned down slightly. Regardless, it seemed stupid now that it was out there, especially in light of what he’d realized about Makoto’s feelings and his. But still, it was Makoto. Whether it was his family, Haruka, or the team, Makoto was used to having someone around to give his attention and affection to. And someone who would give it back.

“Sorry.” Haruka looked up at the apology. “That was Sousuke, and I’ve got to go. Walk with me?” 

“Sure. Is everything alright?” Haruka asked, hunching into himself slightly and sticking his hands in his pockets when a sudden cold gust blew in from the ocean to hit their backs as they headed off of the overlook. Rin glanced down at him, and as they passed under the light, Haruka could see his grin—the happy one that brought sparks to Rin’s eyes.

“Yeah. It’s just, Sousuke’s at the train station; he meant to surprise me and is wondering where the hell I’m at. And that idiot gives me crap for being the romantic,” he said with a soft, affectionate laugh that made Haruka smile a bit despite himself. “As for your thing though, I think it’s just Makoto being the good guy he is,” Rin assured. He grinned down at Haruka then. “But there’s only one way to find out for sure. Stop dragging your feet and tell him.” He sobered slightly, just a hint of a smile remaining. “I mean, we both know that people you think will be there forever sometimes aren’t, too.” 

Haruka thought about that as they took the steps down to the park path. Rin was right about that too, and he’d already almost lost Makoto once. It was the sole recurring nightmare he had and, even now, wide awake, he shivered as the fear and panic of those moments before Makoto’s lungs had started working again tried to claw their way up from the darker corners of his mind. Not that losing Makoto to someone else would be remotely the same, but that didn’t make him feel any better, and his hands curled into loose fists in his pockets as the jealousy and fear he’d been fighting for the better part of the last several weeks were joined by a longing that almost hurt him. It made him uncomfortable in his own skin, all that emotion surging through him, and he thought that, maybe, it was a good thing that he didn’t know where Makoto was at, and that Makoto had put him off completely that evening instead of asking to meet up later. He’d go to the pool, he decided as he and Rin reached the far end of the park, where the city crept back in to drown out the sight, scent and sound of the ocean behind them. In the water, he’d be able to cool, cleanse and think, and he’d be in a better mindset to talk to Makoto tomorrow. 

Haruka’s phone vibrated then and his steps slowed as he pulled it out of his pocket. His eyes rolled slightly when he saw it was a text from Kisumi and he half-heartedly considered ignoring it even as he accessed the message. As soon as he saw it, his brows shot up, and then his lips pressed together firmly. _Too bad you missed out!_ the message said, and it had been sent with a selfie: Kisumi and Asahi, and Makoto was standing behind them. With Mochizuki. Who had his head on Makoto’s shoulder, and his arm around Makoto’s waist. He could tell. He could see Mochizuki’s fingers just above Asahi’s right shoulder. Decision made, he picked up his pace as he exited Kisumi’s text. “Rin, wait. I’ll share the cab,” he said grimly when Rin looked at him in question. He’d recognized the bar behind the group of them, too. Whatever they’d been doing that was so important that Makoto had stood him up, they were doing it at _Marron._ And the shop happened to be between the overlook park and Rin’s train station.

The ride didn’t take long—Haruka’s part of it, at least. It was late enough to where most of the traffic through that particular business district was done, and _Marron_ sat on the corner of the thin section of blocks that separated it from one of the larger shopping districts in that part of Tokyo. As the cab stopped for a light a block east of Haruka’s location, Haruka glanced over at Rin; like Makoto, Rin’s emotions were easy to read, and right then, Rin was near twitching with impatience. Not at him; Haruka knew that. But the streets ahead were packed, even more so than usual because of the holiday shoppers, and right then, all Rin wanted was to get to the station and Sousuke. He knew, because he felt the same way about getting to Makoto, and after a glance out the front window again, Haruka lightly nudged Rin. “I’m getting out here,” he said and then he repeated it a bit more loudly to the driver as he leaned slightly onto his left hip to get his wallet. “Rin—”

Rin smiled and shook his head at the unspoken question. “I would have had to come this way anyway,” he said of the fare Haruka had been about to offer. “Just go. And good luck. Not that I think you’ll need it. You two weirdos are perfect for each other,” he teased with a flash of his toothy grin. “You’re oblivious, but he only has eyes for you, so you should do alright.” 

“Shut up,” Haruka gave back as his cheeks warmed, but he was smiling as he opened the door. “Thanks,” he said to Rin, poking his head back in before closing it, and then he stuck his hands into his pockets and joined the crowd that was rushing to beat the crosswalk light as it counted down toward red. His heart raced slightly as his foot struck the sidewalk of the block he wanted. He’d felt this anxiety a few different times before, when his life had hovered on the cusp of a change, but it was different this time because, if Rin had been wrong, or if Haruka had left it too late, he and Makoto might not come through this one together—at least, not like they’d always been. _It’s going to change either way, though,_ he reminded himself, and he drew a subtle breath once he reached the door and then he pulled it open. 

The warmth of the coffee shop washed over Haruka just as a gust of wind from the street struck him in his back. The contrast was enough to make him shiver, and he fought the urge to wrap his arms around himself as he stepped in. _Marron_ was busy, but it wasn’t that big and, thanks to Kisumi’s text, Haruka knew right where to look. Asahi, Kisumi and Mochizuki were there, but Makoto wasn’t, and Haruka’s stomach did this weird… thing where he wasn’t sure if it was disappointment or relief. Uncertain what to do, he just stood there and watched them. Whatever they were talking about, Mochizuki didn’t like it, not judging from the slight pout he wore; Kisumi was laughing discreetly behind his hand, and Asahi—Haruka’s lips curved up just slightly despite himself. Asahi was wearing his superior smirk, and Haruka knew that if he took just a step or two closer, he’d be able to hear whatever Asahi had to say next. Asahi’s filters were loose on a good day, never mind when he felt heated up or smug about something. 

The small smile that had risen fell just as quickly. Of course, if he took that step or two closer, one of the two of them would likely see him. They’d call to him to join them, and Haruka was _not_ in the mood for their boisterous socialization. What he did want was no longer there, it seemed, and then his breath lightly caught. Maybe that was the reason for Mochizuki’s pout, because Makoto had left; heart racing slightly again, he turned away and slid his hand into his pocket for his phone. 

“Haru?” 

Haruka’s head jerked up. “Makoto.” That racing sensation faded to a dull thud as they just stood there staring at each other. So he hadn’t left. But did that really matter now? He’d fully expected Makoto to be with the others, had even prepared himself to walk in to the sight of Mochizuki cozying up to him in some way, and Haruka’s lips pressed slightly. He was done arguing with himself over it. Done waiting, and with a blink, he tipped his head up just slightly to really meet Makoto’s eyes. “Makoto, come with me.” Haruka’s lips pressed thinner when Makoto’s gaze flickered toward the table, and he snapped a hand out to grab the cuff of Makoto’s coat. “Please.” 

“Haru…” Haruka could see Makoto’s surprise, but there was something else behind it, behind the affection that Haruka realized had been there _every time_ Makoto had ever looked at him now that he knew it for what it was: a sort of hopeful anticipation, but there was a wariness that edged it, too. Rin had been right, Haruka realized. Makoto knew, and he’d been waiting and, heart racing again, he let his fingers slip from Makoto’s cuff to take his hand; truly take it, fingers interlacing. Like that, the hint of guardedness in Makoto’s eyes vanished as the hopefulness flared and Haruka breathed a nearly-silent sigh of relief as, with a gentle tug, he led Makoto toward the door. Maybe he hadn’t left it too late after all. 

The street wasn’t any less crowded when they stepped back outside. Haruka paused, looking around, trying to find someplace that was at least semi-quiet and private so that they could talk. After a second or two, he stepped to the right, and then stopped and glanced up when Makoto’s hand slid from his. “Haru’s hands are freezing,” Makoto explained without looking up from the coat pocket he was unsnapping. Haruka’s lips curved up slightly; it irritated him sometimes, how easily Makoto could read his thoughts, but in that moment, it pleased him. Greatly. 

“Makoto’s hand is warm,” he said as he took it, drew it away from its task and slid their fingers together again. “I have a pocket for the other.” A gentle flush of color rose high in Makoto’s cheeks and Haruka had to look away from Makoto’s expression, his eyes. Haruka wasn’t usually one for brash and emotionally driven actions, but everything Makoto was feeling was completely laid bare and, right then, he didn’t trust himself not to react to it. “Come,” he said again and with another gentle tug, and he led Makoto to the far corner of _Marron_ and into the narrow alleyway. The door that led into it from the next building over had a slight overhang and stoop; there hadn’t been any lights on there when Haruka had looked around, so he figured they’d be safe there. The wind lost its bite some and the street noise faded; it was as close as they’d get to actually being alone and Haruka drew a subtle breath as that anxiety tried to claw itself forward again. 

“Haru—” 

“Makoto, w—” Impatience flickered through Haruka when they cut each other off, but he let it rise and pass, then started again. It wasn’t the first time, and there’d be no sense in telling Makoto to go ahead. He’d just persist with that gentle stubbornness of his. “Why are you here? At _Marron_ , with them,” he added before Makoto could stall like he was prone to when put on the spot and say _because Haru brought me_. “You said we couldn’t meet because you had to help Mochizuki. Then Kisumi sent me this.” He let go of Makoto’s hand to pull out his phone and show him the text; Makoto’s eyes went wide, and he gave a nervous laugh, and Haruka’s stomach got that unpleasant flutter through it again. 

“So that’s how you found me. I wondered.” 

Haruka’s lips pressed when nothing else came after that and he snapped his phone shut. “Makoto, why?”

“Haru.” Makoto searched his eyes in the way Haruka knew meant that he _wasn’t_ able to read him right then, and then the pretty green steadied and Haruka fought the urge to hold his breath. He knew that look, too. Whatever was going through Makoto’s head, he’d decided to just be out with it. It was the same look he’d had when he’d told Haruka he would be moving to Tokyo. “I _was_ helping Yuuma,” he said quietly. “Shigino-san was monitoring his flats for Yuuma and he had one come open unexpectedly. The current tenant is being called back to the States and it was in Yuuma’s price range. Yuuma had left to catch the train back to Iwatobi; Shigino-san couldn’t reach him, and couldn’t wait, so I went after him.” Makoto smiled a bit. “We went and looked at it, he signed the papers, and then he had time to kill before the next train out, so we met up with Asahi and Kisumi. I didn’t want you to waste a whole evening that could be used for practice waiting for a _maybe_. That’s why I told you no,” he quietly explained. “It was done a lot faster than I thought, but I figured you’d likely gone to the pool when I said I couldn’t meet up, and I didn’t want to interrupt your training.” 

“Oh.” Haruka looked away, feeling badly for his doubt, but then something Makoto had said clicked and he looked up at Makoto again. “Mochizuki is going back to Iwatobi?”

“Mm.” Haruka’s brow arched when that soft color rose high in Makoto’s cheeks with the quiet sound. “I didn’t mind helping Yuuma out, but…” 

“But?” 

Makoto’s blush deepened and he gave an awkward shrug. “I didn’t want him there anymore. Nothing happened,” he said quickly, the color up into his ears now. “He was always polite and kind. But I think Yuuma wanted it to and… I didn’t.” 

“Why?” In that moment, that was more important to Haruka than the jealousy that was clawing through him. He could deal with that later once he knew, once he’d heard what he could see, which was why it made no sense just how badly he _did_ need to hear. Everything about Makoto screamed his answer as the question hung between them: his blush, his wide eyes, the way he was scrambling for his words, and then Makoto’s lashes fell, and he looked away. He was painfully, adorably awkward and Haruka’s fingers curled in toward his palms. “Mako—”

“Because Yuuma isn’t Haru-chan,” Makoto softly blurted.

Makoto’s eyes fell completely shut and his jaw tensed; the briefest of satisfied smiles flickered over Haruka’s lips before he gave into the urge he’d been fighting and reached for Makoto’s face. Makoto’s eyes flew open when Haruka’s fingers met his chin. “I told you to drop the _-chan_ ,” he lowly groused as he brushed them along Makoto’s jaw and then he tipped his head up and put a kiss to Makoto’s lips. Makoto softly gasped and something tightened through Haruka’s gut; hand sliding up higher to cup Makoto’s cheek, Haruka stepped into Makoto as his other hand found Makoto’s hip. Makoto groaned as he was put to the wall, something that sort of sounded like Haruka’s name, and then Makoto’s arm was around him, pulling him closer, as Makoto kissed him back. It only took a second or two for them to learn the shape and feel of each other’s mouths and, as Haruka tipped his head just slightly to better allow for Makoto’s nose, he licked out with his tongue and across Makoto’s lower lip. Makoto’s gasp broke the kiss this time and, after glancing up at Makoto’s face, Haruka knew they had to leave before he did something _really_ rash. “Let’s go, Makoto.” 

“Haru!” Haruka just looked at him, and Makoto laughed: soft, indulgent, joy-filled. He didn’t say another word; he just let Haruka take his hand again and pull him back into the alley. “Where are we going?” 

“Makoto’s.” Haruka glanced over his shoulder. “It’s closer.” Makoto’s face went red again, and Haruka briefly smirked as he turned his gaze forward. “Do you have a chit to take care of?” he asked as they stepped back onto the sidewalk from the alley. 

“Nah. We got it.” Haruka stopped short in surprise and looked up; he was literally inches from Asahi’s face. 

“Asahi! Guys!” Makoto stammered, and then he squawked a soft, “Haru!” when, instead of letting go of his hand, Haruka tightened his hold and drew Makoto as close as he could to his side as he evenly met Mochizuki’s gaze. 

“Oh, Haru’s scary!” Kisumi said with mildly amused surprise and Haruka briefly rolled his eyes as Makoto sputtered more and Asahi laughed. 

“We tried to tell you, dude,” Asahi said as he, too, looked at Mochizuki. “Makoto’s off limits; has been for years.” 

“Wait, what? You guys were talking about—” 

“Asahi’s right,” Haruka said evenly over Makoto’s sputtering outrage, still holding Mochizuki’s eyes. “Makoto’s mine.” 

“Haru!” 

“Am I wrong?” 

“Wha—well, no,” Makoto quickly managed when Haruka slightly arched a brow. “But—” 

“So there you have it.” Makoto gaped as Haruka politely put it to Mochizuki and then he covered his face with his free hand as Kisumi and Asahi laughed. “Come on, Makoto. Let’s go. Kisumi. Asahi.” Haruka tipped his chin to each of his friends in farewell and then let his lips curve ever so slightly. “Mochizuki,” he murmured before turning away and signaling to one of the taxis lined up that he’d take it. In the back of his mind, he heard Makoto quickly stammering his goodbyes to the others, and then they were in the cab and the door was shut against the outside world. Sighing silently in relief, Haruka gave the driver Makoto’s address and then settled back into the seat. 

“That was mean, Haru,” Makoto complained as the taxi merged into the traffic, but there was a smile there, too; Haruka could hear it, and one returned to his own lips when Makoto’s hand slid across the seat between them to take his. “Is that why you came tonight?” Makoto asked after a few more minutes had passed, “To stake your claim?” 

Haruka’s eyes went wide. He was quite familiar with that particular, mild tone. Makoto’d had time to process the last ten minutes or so that had passed and was on the cusp of either accepting it or being pissed; Haruka knew that the rest of the night would depend on how he answered. 

“Not really.” He blinked and looked out the window; felt Makoto’s hand tense to pull away, and he tightened his own, let his thumb lightly brush over Makoto’s skin. “I was afraid,” Haruka pushed himself to say. “I didn’t know why, but when you started putting me off and then turned me down tonight, I was afraid that Mochizuki was going to take you from me before I could figure it out. That made me more afraid. I didn’t know what to do, and I felt panicked.” Makoto’s soft, _oh, Haru_ was nearly lost to the way Haruka’s heart seemed to beat in his ears as he took a breath so he could continue. “Then I realized why.” 

“Why?” 

Haruka blinked at the softly-spoken question. He tipped his head up and Makoto was _so_ close; had it been anyone else, he might have thought they were playing some sort of game with him, placing him on that edge where he’d put Makoto before, but it was Makoto, and everything was again laid bare in his eyes for him: that he knew. That he returned it. That he still needed to be told. “Because I love Makoto and Makoto is mine.” 

“Ha—oh!” Makoto’s voice hitched as they were suddenly jerked forward. The driver apologized hurriedly, contritely, and Haruka and Makoto both assured it was fine; Haruka’s eyes widened slightly as he looked out the windshield. At some point, it had started to snow, and it was already transforming the city, giving a soft, sugar-coating to the myriad structures and lights—and the roads, he realized wryly when, again, the cab lurched to a stop, and again, the driver apologized. Makoto’s hand tightened and, after glancing up at him, Haruka leaned forward a bit to get the driver’s attention. “No. Haru, it’s okay.” Haruka glanced over at Makoto; he was smiling a bit now, still anxious, but not afraid. “Thank you, but I’m okay. It’s only a few blocks more anyway, ne?” Haruka nodded and settled back again. “It’s pretty though. Our first snow in Tokyo.” Makoto chuckled softly then. “Maybe Haru might come to like winter after all now he’s someplace he can really swim year-round.” 

“I doubt it. It’s still messy and cold.” 

“It’s just frozen water, Haru.” 

Haruka rolled his eyes even as he smiled a bit. They’d had the same stupid argument for years, but right then, he was glad for it. It felt good: knowing that even though nothing between them would be the same, nothing had really changed between them, either. 

The worst of the shopping district behind them, the rest of the ride went quickly and without incident. Haruka paid the fare since he’d opted for the taxi instead of waiting for a bus, and then they went inside and upstairs. Makoto shut and locked the door, and then turned to him, took Haruka’s face in his hands. Haruka’s brow arched and the color that had risen to dust Makoto’s cheeks deepened. “I love you too, Haru-chan,” Makoto said softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to say it back when you told me.” Makoto kissed him then, shy and sweet; Haruka’s brow arched again when Makoto broke it and stepped away before he could even return it. “Let me take your coat,” he said after they’d taken their shoes off; Haruka nodded and then quietly trailed Makoto deeper into the small apartment. It was the same as it had been since his first time visiting, but there was an odd air between them, too. Lips briefly pressing, Haruka went over to Makoto to clear it. “Haru, do you wa—oh!” 

Makoto’s surprise at turning and finding him _right there_ briefly curved Haruka’s lips, but then he sobered, brought his hands up to Makoto’s shoulders. “Oh,” Makoto softly repeated, finding his answer to the unspoken question in Haruka’s proximity, in the embrace and, cheeks colored again, Makoto dipped his head. Haruka briefly wondered, as their lips met, if Makoto would ever stop blushing. Probably not, he thought in wry amusement, but then he let it pass. Makoto was Makoto and he wouldn’t change him.

There was no awkward fumbling with the kiss this time; they came together as if they’d been kissing their whole lives and, as Makoto’s hands wrapped around Haruka’s waist, Haruka slid his tongue out to tease at Makoto’s lower lip like he had before. Makoto gasped again but stayed this time, and he softly moaned when Haruka licked into his mouth. Haruka felt that tightness tease through his gut again, and then lower when, after running his tongue over Makoto’s, Makoto’s moved, stroking over his in turn before sliding past his lips. Haruka’s breaths sped around it, his hands curving back to run over Makoto’s broad shoulders and then his left moving into Makoto’s hair as he took the kiss back to Makoto’s mouth before they broke for air. “Makoto tastes good,” Haruka murmured as they shared breaths between them, and he dipped his head slightly to kiss along Makoto’s jaw. 

“Ha—” Makoto’s breath caught in a soft groan as Haruka found a place toward his ear. “Haru, too,” he managed as Haruka lightly nursed it, and then he tilted away from Haruka’s mouth and dipped his head back down to take it. 

There was no shyness this time, just eagerness and want, but when Haruka shifted closer to deepen the kiss, Makoto’s hands tightened to stay him. Haruka consciously realized then that they’d never _left_ his hips, and he slowly broke the embrace and rolled his gaze up. “Makoto.” He tried stepping forward again and, again, Makoto stopped him, lips parted for his breaths, eyes still closed. Embarrassment had crept in to taint Makoto’s want; Haruka could tell by where his blush lay and, from how desperately Makoto was trying to keep him at arm’s length, Haruka had no doubt about its source. Makoto was hard for him and that tightness shot through his gut again. 

Eyes never leaving Makoto’s face, Haruka dropped a hand to slide it between them. Makoto’s blush went deeper as he frantically caught it; Haruka twisted it free and, ignoring Makoto’s whispered plea of his name, cupped Makoto’s erection through his jeans, the sound Makoto made going straight to Haruka’s dick. “I can’t help it,” Makoto whispered, eyes still shut, arms still locked even as Haruka continued to fondle him. My Haru-chan is kissing m—” Makoto’s voice broke for a low groan when Haruka lightly squeezed him. “—me, doing these things to me,” he finished once he’d swallowed and found his voice again. “I—” 

“Makoto.” He waited until Makoto opened his eyes and then, holding the green, Haruka took one of Makoto’s hands from his waist. “Don’t be embarrassed. I want Makoto, too.” Makoto’s eyes briefly widened as Haruka pressed Makoto’s hand to Haruka’s erection and then, with a breath of Haruka’s name, Makoto took his mouth again, tongue pushing in deep as he felt Haruka up through the denim. Having that large hand rub and squeeze him made Haruka ache for more and, breaking from the kiss to tease at Makoto’s jaw again, he brought his hands in to start at Makoto’s belt and fly as he backed him toward the bed. Makoto’s dick pushed greedily against the space cleared by the zip as Haruka lowered it; mouth slightly dry, Haruka ran his fingers up it through the boxer briefs Makoto wore and then he gripped Makoto’s waistband, easing it down until his erection was free before taking that final step that sent Makoto lightly sprawling onto the mattress. 

Makoto’s cock was long and thick, perfectly proportioned to the rest of him. Straddling Makoto’s thighs, Haruka ran his fingers along it again from tip to base before wrapping his hand around it. The heat and hardness called to his own arousal and, licking his lips, he tipped his head up, his want driven higher still by the way Makoto looked: flushed, lips swollen and parted for breaths, eyes gleaming with adoration and arousal. “Mine,” Haruka leaned forward to murmur against Makoto’s mouth and, after a short, hard kiss, he rolled his gaze back down as he started to stroke. Makoto called for him, breaths already quickening; a trickle of moisture met Haruka’s fist as it slid tightly toward Makoto’s head, and Haruka paused there, thumb rubbing a slow circle through it where Makoto’s tip met his shaft. Makoto shuddered his pleasure, lips parted in a nearly silent whine from the intensity of it. Haruka’s body had done the normal things growing up, but he’d never felt arousal beyond the physiological. He’d never really thought about it before, but he knew now why that was. He’d never tasted Makoto before tonight, had never touched or seen him like this before, and he tipped his head up to nuzzle and then kiss the left side of Makoto’s jaw and neck where Mochizuki’s head had been. “Makoto is mine.”

“Haru—ka’s,” Makoto stuttered when Haruka licked at his Adam’s apple next. “Always and only Haru-chan’s.” Makoto finally moved his hands then, lightly stroking up Haruka’s erection to fumble eagerly, clumsily with Haruka’s belt and fly. Once the pressure had eased, Haruka’s cock shifted slightly to press through the opening in his boxers; Makoto eased it fully free and then caught it, ran fingers over it, panting breaths coming slightly faster again as he stroked over the head and then down to the base to wrap his hand around him.

For the first time, Haruka lowly moaned; he’d held that hand, felt its warm, gentle strength more times than he could count, and in that moment, he wondered if he’d ever be able to take Makoto’s hand again without getting hard. Returning his mouth to Makoto’s, Haruka kissed him hard and deep, Makoto returning it just as feverishly now that his embarrassment had fled. Dropping his hold on Makoto’s cock, Haruka moved Makoto’s hand from his, pushed up a bit on his toes and arced in closer. “Ah, Haru,” Makoto groaned when their dicks came together and, panting himself now, Haruka took Makoto’s hand again, brought it to their erections and then squeezed. Makoto moaned his name again, then took his mouth as he started to stroke; Haruka broke from the kiss to tease at his throat again as he rolled his hips up against Makoto’s fist.

“Haru…” Haruka’s name fell from Makoto’s lips like a chant each time Haruka rolled into his strokes. Makoto was nuzzling the top of his head, kissing his hair between his panting breaths, fingers of his free hand lightly biting into his flesh through his tee-shirt as they flexed restlessly against the small of his back as he kept Haru from slipping off as he ground against him. Abruptly, Makoto choked off his name, breaths coming too rapidly to speak it; Haruka lifted his head, took a look at Makoto’s face and then rolled his gaze downward, gut tight, his own breaths coming harder, faster at the thought of seeing Makoto come. Lips parted, he watched himself push up against Makoto’s cock and through his fist again, and he groaned as Makoto brokenly called for him as Makoto’s come pulsed over his fingers. Barely able to breathe, Haruka pushed up again, and then one more time through Makoto’s slickness and he came too, body shuddering hard with the first pulse and then breaths gasping softly against Makoto’s neck when Makoto pulled him close and held him as he rode out the rest. “I love you, Haru. I love you,” he heard Makoto say time and again and, when he was able, Haruka lifted his head from Makoto’s neck and kissed him.

“I love you too,” he said quietly and, after another gentle kiss, Haruka pulled back and rested his head on Makoto’s shoulder with a soft sigh, a slight smile settling into his lips when he felt Makoto’s head against his as Makoto held him closer and lightly stroked down his back. Tension drained, relieved that the difficult part was over and that it had gone the way it had, Haruka gave in completely to the warmth and comfort of Makoto’s embrace and let himself drift. At some point, he felt Makoto shift, his hold on him tightening as he laid them down; Haruka remembered a slight jostling and then the weight of a blanket settling over him… He eased his eyes open, tipping his head slightly from the dim light coming in from behind the curtain, and he softly sighed. And now, suddenly, it was morning.

Makoto was still sleeping, but Haruka figured it wouldn’t be too long before he woke. He could tell by Makoto’s breath pattern, and Haruka smiled a bit as the thought crossed his mind. They already knew so many intimate things about each other; so much of that _getting to know you_ awkwardness was already out of the way. His lips curved higher as he thought about the night before: how worked up he’d let himself get, and how the resolution had gone. Rin had been right. It had been a foolish worry. He and Makoto had been partners for a very long time; the verbal confessions and sex had been all that had really been missing. 

Makoto shifted against him then, and Haruka’s breath softly caught. Makoto was hard, and Haruka wondered if he’d always woken up that way or if it was because of what had happened the night before. It wasn’t the first time they’d shared a bed, but Makoto had never held him like this; Haruka’s mind raced then, taunting him of images of a blushing Makoto, working that thick cock, Haruka’s name on his lips as he stroked himself and came. A soft smirk rose even as he felt a faint flush of arousal in his cheeks, its warmth coiling toward his dick from low in his gut. Because of course Makoto would blush, even in the privacy of his own room. Makoto was Makoto.

Makoto shifted again, breaths changing slightly. Swallowing softly as he felt Makoto’s erection more firmly against his ass, Haruka pushed back into the cradle of Makoto’s hips. Makoto gave a low, sleepy moan that brought Haruka to full hardness as a large hand slid down his abdomen and then under his shirt. “Mm. So it wasn’t just a dream.”

“No. I’m real.” Haruka tipped his head slightly, rubbed his nose against Makoto’s jaw, swallowed again as Makoto lazily caressed his stomach. “My love is, too,” he said quietly, chest hurting slightly as he thought about how long he’d left Makoto to dream; to wonder if Haruka would ever realize what he felt and tell him. 

“Haru.” Makoto chuckled softly against his head, kissed it, then nuzzled his ear. “My Haru-chan is a romantic.”

“Shut up,” Haruka groused, though it was quite ruined by the light hitch in his voice as Makoto stretched against him. 

Makoto laughed again, hand leaving Haruka’s abdomen for his hip, and Haruka let Makoto turn him face-to-face. “I love you, too.” And Haruka smiled. Bedhead, morning breath, pillow lines in his cheek; it didn’t matter. Makoto had never looked more perfect, and Haruka willingly took the kiss that was offered to him. As he languidly licked into Makoto’s mouth, Makoto’s hand tightened. Haruka rolled with him, settled on top of him. Their lazy kisses quickly changed, breaths coming faster; lightly tugging Makoto’s lower lip, Haruka broke it to lick and kiss at Makoto’s throat as Makoto’s hands stroked up his sides and then down his back to, after a slight hesitation, come to rest on his ass. Haruka flickered his gaze up and softly smirked. He’d been right. Makoto’s ears were flushed with color. 

With a soft, contented sound, Haruka flexed beneath those hands. Makoto’s breath caught at the friction and, after a last suck to Makoto’s Adam’s apple, Haruka arched up, pausing to lick at the divot of his throat before sitting up completely to shove Makoto’s shirt up with his hands. “Haru.” Makoto shifted beneath him, green glowing from beneath his lashes, hands again finding Haruka’s hips as Haruka lightly traced the lines of Makoto’s pectorals, the cut of muscle evident even though Makoto was relaxed. Holding Makoto’s gaze, Haruka leaned forward and licked at his sternum, the motion pushing his ass against Makoto’s cock. “Haru, what time—” Makoto managed as Haruka kissed that spot before straightening and leaning forward again to return to Makoto’s mouth. “Practice—” 

“I don’t care.” Haruka kissed Makoto deep then pulled back again, fingers tracing lower this time, along Makoto’s ribs to his abdomen; when they reached his waist, Haruka arced back to place a kiss just above Makoto’s navel. “I’ll tell them I couldn’t make the morning because of the snow,” he murmured, smirking slightly when the vibration against Makoto’s stomach tore a very wanton sounding giggle from Makoto’s throat—and broke off another protest. Hunger gnawed at Haruka’s gut as he glanced up at Makoto again. He’d wanted Makoto the night before, but it was nothing compared to what he felt now and, after pushing up for another deep, hungry kiss, he murmured against Makoto’s lips, “Makoto, undress.” 

“H- Haru—” Haruka smirked again when the teasing stroke of his fingers along the length of Makoto’s cock broke his complaint, and then he shifted off of Makoto completely, tugging his shirt off over his head as he stood. Makoto had pushed himself up onto his elbows in that brief second or two, and he swallowed, tongue darting out over his lips as he tried to make his mouth work. “Haru, you’re really going to skip out on practice to— to—” 

“Fuck?” Haruka swore that every inch of Makoto’s flesh he could see had gone pink as Makoto swallowed again and nodded. “No.” He hooked his thumbs into his boxers and then let them drop to the ground where his jeans had fallen as he’d stood. “I’m skipping out on practice because I want to be with you. Fucking is just a part of that.” Haruka paused at the edge of the bed. “Unless you don’t want to.” 

“No.” Haruka looked away, heard Makoto scramble to sit up, looked back again when Makoto grabbed his hand. “Not no like that,” Makoto rushed, face even redder. “No, it isn’t that I don’t want to. I do. But you’re working so hard toward your dream, Haru. I don’t want to get in the way.” 

“There are a lot of things that are important besides just practicing,” Haruka said quietly, recalling Mikoshiba’s words to the freshman team, as he turned fully to face Makoto. Taking a half step back, he tugged on Makoto’s hand, then moved in closer again once Makoto had stood. “Makoto is the most important of anything,” he continued as he slid his arms around Makoto’s neck, “And he’s waited long enough.” 

“Haru.” Makoto’s smile was dazzling beneath his soft, happy blush; it took Haruka’s breath away right then, how handsome Makoto was, how lucky _he_ was, and he distracted himself from it by tipping his head up to kiss those smiling lips. His own quirked just slightly when, as Makoto’s hands found his waist, he felt Makoto’s soft intake of breath. Apparently Makoto, in his earnestness, had forgotten that Haruka had stripped, but it only lasted a second, and then Makoto’s hands were all over him, squeezing his hips, running up his back, and then down to stroke over and then cup Haruka’s ass as his tongue hungrily stripped Haruka’s mouth before he broke away with a soft gasp. 

Haruka was so hard from Makoto’s sudden greed that he ached and, as Makoto explored Haruka’s jawline with his mouth, Haruka shoved Makoto’s jeans down and out of the way and then, more carefully, tugged down Makoto’s underwear. “Haru.” Makoto shivered in pleasure as Haruka ran fingers up his cock, then he turned his head to give Haruka another hungry kiss. “Then I want Haru-chan to fuck me,” he murmured huskily against Haruka’s lips before bringing his forehead to rest against Haruka’s so that they could meet eyes. “You might get away with skipping this morning, but I don’t want you to be off for Azuma-san this afternoon, especially since we start break the day after tomorrow.” 

It took Haruka a second or two to realize what Makoto was getting at, and then his eyes briefly widened before softening as he brought a hand to Makoto’s reddened cheek to kiss him. He hadn’t thought about that, and part of him ached even more now to have Makoto inside him, to learn how his body would feel after taking Makoto’s cock. But Makoto was right. Haruka had no doubt that he’d feel it after, especially their first time, and Azuma had eyes like a hawk—and had already been riding him about how his form and times had slipped in his distraction. “Ok,” he murmured against Makoto’s mouth in turn, “But all two weeks of break are Makoto’s.” 

Makoto’s eyes widened slightly, and then hunger flashed through them; with a breathed, “Okay,” Makoto took his mouth again, hands again roving over what of Haruka they could reach. Makoto’s was the touch Haruka was most familiar with, and his body seemed to thirst for it now for how quickly Makoto’s slow, explorative strokes got him breathless and aching again. 

Pushing into Makoto, Haruka rolled his hips as he dropped his hands from Makoto’s shoulders to the hem of his shirt. Makoto groaned softly into his mouth from the friction, hands coming to rest at Haruka’s waist; Haruka’s breath caught as Makoto rocked against him in turn and then he turned his head away. “Makoto.” He tugged on Makoto’s shirt as Makoto looked down at him.

Makoto gave a soft, breathless laugh, stroked over Haruka’s ass one more time and then nodded. “Sorry, Haru-chan,” he murmured and, stepping back, and out of his jeans and underwear, he tugged his shirt off over his head and then shoved a hand back through his hair. As soon as his arm dropped, Haruka stepped forward, brought his hands up to Makoto’s chest, watched himself trace and caress over Makoto’s pecs and then downward as Makoto nuzzled the top of his head, kissed his hair, stroked over his sides and back. He’d seen Makoto’s body too many times to count, but it was a different thing entirely now that it was his; he wanted to touch and taste every inch of it, let Makoto have his in turn as they slowly broke the last true secrets held between them.

Tracing in along Makoto’s hiplines, Haruka again ran his fingers up Makoto’s cock. His gut went tight at the sound Makoto made, at the slickness he felt at its tip and, after watching himself caress back down to Makoto’s balls, he tipped his head up and took Makoto’s mouth again, giving him a couple of slow, loose strokes before releasing him and slipping both hands back to Makoto’s ass. Makoto pushed into him as he squeezed and Haruka softly groaned around Makoto’s tongue as their dicks caught and rubbed again. 

Without breaking the kiss, Haruka took a step forward which forced Makoto a step back; after another second or two, Makoto broke the embrace and, with another hungry look into Haruka’s eyes, he laid down and then held a hand up to him. Haruka took it, let Makoto pull him down, settled on top of him; they kissed again, slow and deep, and then Haruka broke away, one hand combing through Makoto’s hair, the other stroking down his side as he rolled down against him and sucked at his throat like he had the night before. Makoto’s breath caught and he tipped his head back, hand tightening on Haruka’s hip in turn as he rocked up, and then, “Haruka, please.” 

Want shot through Haruka’s gut hard and fast. It hadn’t been his intent to make Makoto plead, but knowing that Makoto wanted him that badly took his breath away; with a final suck, and then lick, to Makoto’s Adam’s apple, Haruka lifted his head, brushed a kiss over his lips, then lithely pushed himself up onto his arms to rock back and settle between Makoto’s legs. Another sharp stab of want shot through him when Makoto brought them up at the knee; mouth dry, Haruka ran his hands down Makoto’s inner thighs, felt how the flesh and tone changed as his fingers drew closer to Makoto’s ass and balls, and then he dropped his right hand lower to stroke a finger over the hole beneath. It was almost ridiculous, how small it was compared to Makoto as a whole, and he watched himself tease over it again, felt his dick get wet as it lightly pulsed as he continued to stroke and circle it. 

Makoto called his name again, voice breathless, slightly strained; with a blink, Haruka looked up, then tipped his head to kiss Makoto’s thigh. “Sorry,” he murmured and then, after another pass over Makoto’s hole, he sat up straight. “Makoto—” Haruka blinked again when, before he could say anything further, a small tube of lubricant landed beside him on the bed. It wasn’t that Makoto had known that surprised him; Makoto had been finishing his thoughts for years. But that Makoto had had actual lube, and right there… Haruka swallowed softly against the mixture of arousal and ache that rose as he thought again about Makoto masturbating, calling for him, thought about how long he’d left Makoto wanting. Setting it to the side for the moment, Haruka pushed up again, stretched over Makoto, stroked over a reddened cheek until Makoto turned his head so that Haruka could see his eyes. “I love you,” Haruka said quietly, and the way Makoto’s eyes lit, how he smiled: Haruka had never been much for words but he knew that those were ones he’d never get tired of saying. 

“I love Haruka, too.” Makoto said softly and with a gentle touch to Haruka’s cheek. Haruka brushed his lips over Makoto’s and then shifted down, pausing to place a kiss to Makoto’s chest, over his heart, before settling between Makoto’s legs again and picking up the tube of lubricant. 

Haruka observed, with a sort of detached bemusement, that his fingers were trembling slightly as tried to flip open the cap, but he finally managed it and squeezed some out. Tipping his head up, he sought out Makoto’s face as he stroked over Makoto’s hole again, gently rubbing a circle over it through the lube a few times before pushing his finger in. Makoto tensed slightly and Haruka stopped, but when he caught his name on Makoto’s breath, he pushed deeper, then eased the finger back out, gaze rolling downward when it slid in slightly deeper again this time. His dick ached as he watched himself finger Makoto’s hole; he didn’t think he’d ever wanted anything as badly as he did Makoto right then, and he dipped his head to lick at Makoto’s cock to distract himself. 

Makoto moaned, hips shifting restlessly toward Haruka’s mouth; Haruka had to drop his free hand to his own erection and squeeze as Makoto’s taste and wanton display of need sent his own higher. Licking up to Makoto’s crown, Haruka pulled away, fumbled for the tube of lubricant again, wondered how he’d ever manage to last until Makoto was ready to take him. Resting his head against Makoto’s leg, Haruka stroked over his hole and then pushed two fingers in; Makoto’s tension was more pronounced this time and, kissing his knee in silent apology, Haruka dropped his mouth back to Makoto’s cock, free hand taking it at the base this time and tipping it so that he could slide his lips over Makoto’s broad tip and suck. 

“Haru!” 

Haruka rolled his gaze upward, saw Makoto clawing at his blanket as his head rolled; Haruka’s dick ached again as his fingers slid more easily past Makoto’s hole and deeper into his body. He couldn’t do both, not if he planned on lasting long enough to fuck Makoto; it was too much, the physical and emotional stimulation and, panting softly, he freed Makoto’s cock, kissed the head and then let his eyes fall shut as he continued to work Makoto open, pushing his fingers in, then easing them apart as he withdrew them to the tips again. Makoto’s hips shifted and Haruka’s eyes opened; his gut instantly got tight again as, with his next push in, Makoto flexed and met it, hips rolling into Haruka’s touch. 

Unable to wait any longer, hoping he’d done enough, Haruka slid his fingers free and found the lube again. His fingers were trembling again as he quickly fisted the substance onto his cock, but he took a subtle breath, calmed himself the best he could, and then slid a hand down Makoto’s outer thigh. “Makoto.” Makoto canted his hip up and, shifting his hand to Makoto’s ass, Haruka took hold of his cock at the base and then pushed the tip past Makoto’s hole. Dropping his hand, Haruka arched his hips forward, nails biting into Makoto’s flesh as he watched Makoto’s body slowly take him in until he couldn’t go any further. 

Breaths rushing from his lips, blood pounding in his ears, Haruka looked up at Makoto’s face. Love, want, an odd sort of peace; it was like everything he felt but couldn’t express was there plainly in Makoto’s eyes and, as Makoto brought a hand up to his cheek, Haruka realized that his lower lashes were damp. “Haru-chan.” Makoto gently brushed the moisture away and, cheeks warmed, Haruka turned his head.

“I’m fine.” Haruka hesitated and then pressed a kiss to Makoto’s palm. “It’s just because it’s you.” 

Makoto’s fingers lightly caressed Haruka’s heated cheek. “I know.” And Haruka smiled and kissed Makoto’s palm again. Because of course Makoto did. 

Turning his head to meet Makoto’s eyes again, Haruka rolled his hips back. His eyes lidded at the rush of pleasure from the slow, tight pull to his cock and then he pushed in again. Makoto’s eyes gleamed beneath his lashes as he watched, the hand that had been at Haruka’s cheek now resting low on Makoto’s stomach. Licking his lips, Haruka’s eyes flickered back up to Makoto’s face as he thrust back in a bit firmer and faster now that Makoto’s body wasn’t resisting quite as much. Makoto’s breath caught, the color flaring higher in his cheeks; when Haruka pushed in this time, he rolled his hips against Makoto’s ass, and his gut tightened when Makoto’s head dropped back as he choked out Haruka’s name. He had no clue how he’d gotten on without this for so long, but now that he had it, he knew he wouldn’t be living without it. “Mine,” he let slip on a breath when he drove that sound from Makoto again. 

“Haru.” Makoto swallowed and Haruka licked his lips as his gaze flickered to the enticing bob of his throat, and then lower when he saw Makoto’s arm move. “Always and only Haruka’s,” Makoto managed through his breaths and then his eyes fell shut and his hand curled into a fist as Haruka tore that strangled groan from him again. “Haru, I—” 

“Makoto, it’s okay. Me too.” 

Makoto swallowed again and nodded and, his eyes slitting open slightly, he shifted his hand from his abdomen to his dick. Haruka nearly came right then just from watching him, but he managed a couple more thrusts—long enough to hear Makoto’s soft, stammered cry of his name, to see that strong back arch from the bed as Makoto’s body tightened around him and he _couldn’t_ hold back any more. Jaw clenching from the intensity of it, breath caught tight in his chest, Haruka came, hips jerking sharply against Makoto’s ass. 

As Haruka’s orgasm slowed, everything came rushing back to him at once and he slumped forward. Makoto was there, arms coming around him. Nuzzling his temple, kissing his forehead, Makoto laid them back down, and Haruka unashamedly curled in close to his chest as Makoto reached behind him to pull the blanket back over them. “Haru-chan is amazing,” Makoto murmured in a low, sated voice that sent a last tendril of arousal uncurling lazily through Haruka.

Haruka huffed lightly. “You’re never going to drop it, are you,” he asked without lifting his head. 

Makoto chuckled softly. “No, probably not.” 

Haruka’s eyes fell closed when he felt Makoto’s fingers through his hair, and he kissed Makoto’s chest, over his heart again. “…good.” 

“Haru.” With another soft laugh, Makoto kissed the tip of his head and then rested his cheek against it with a happy hum. 

Haruka had just about drifted off again when Makoto’s doorbell rang. Makoto shifted and Haruka’s eyes came open. “Who is it?” 

Makoto shook his head with a soft, negatory sound as he pushed himself up to sit. “I’m not expecting anyone, so it’s either a wrong address or one of the guys. Other than you, they’re the only ones who know I’m here,” he said as he got to his feet and then stooped for his jeans and boxers. “Coming!” he called out more loudly when the doorbell rang again; hurriedly stepping into them, he gave a soft grimace and Haruka quickly sat.

“Makoto.” 

“It’s fine.” Makoto paused to give him a quick smile and kiss and then bent down again for his shirt, slipping it over his head as he headed out through the kitchenette. 

Haruka watched him, lips softly pressed, and then he gave a quiet sigh and stood up as well. Whomever it was, they’d broken the mood, so he might as well get up and see what was in Makoto’s kitchen for breakfast. A small, soft smile briefly showed as he reached for his pants. Ham and eggs were a sure thing at any rate. 

“Asahi!” 

Haruka’s head jerked up at that, brows arched in surprise, and then they evened out and he moved a little faster as a flicker of concern ran through him. He and Makoto both started late on Thursdays—save for his practice, of course. Which Asahi would have been at, so whatever it had been that had brought him out, it had been important enough for Asahi to skip lab after. As he tugged on his shirt, he heard Makoto invite Asahi in and out of the cold, and Haruka shivered softly when he caught the tail end of the wind that had come in through the open door as he stepped out to join them. 

“Thanks, Makoto—o ho!” Asahi grinned widely and Haruka rolled his eyes. “Guess that answers that, then.” 

“Hm?” Makoto turned his head, smiled at Haruka as Haruka stepped up to his side, and then looked back at Asahi; Haruka mentally counted down while Makoto did the math, and then he gave the slightest hint of a smirk when Makoto’s cheeks went pink. Four seconds. He’d been right. “Oh…” 

Asahi laughed. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s just me.” He grinned warmly. “I figured, when Haruka wasn’t at the pool and I couldn’t reach Makoto by phone, that things had either gone really bad last night, or really good. But Kisumi was pretty worried when I told him, especially with the weather, so I said I’d run and find out. Morning sessions are canceled, by the way,” Asahi interjected, and then his teeth flashed in a leer and Makoto’s blush deepened. “But anyway, yeah, I’m guessing _rea_ —” 

“How’d you know to come here?” Haruka cut Asahi off to ask. He quite liked Makoto’s blush, but he preferred to be the one who put it there. 

“Well, you were pretty impatient last night, and Makoto’s flat was closer.” 

Haruka felt his own face warm with that, and he turned his gaze away from Asahi when Asahi laughed again. 

“Asahi!” Makoto stammered, and then they both looked at Makoto’s coat when they heard the muffled sound of Rin’s ringtone. “Rin?” Makoto’s brow furrowed slightly as he went over to the hooks and Haruka’s eyes widened.

“Makoto, wa—” 

“Good morning, Rin. No, everything’s fine.” Makoto laughed. “No, he’s not gotten any better about answering his phone.” Haruka’s eyes rolled again when Makoto looked at him impishly, and then Makoto’s amusement faded into soft apology. “No! Not on purpose, anyway. I’d just left it in my coat and didn’t hear it. I’m sorry.” Makoto pinked slightly again. “No, I know I don’t usually, but things kind of got away from me when I got home.” 

Asahi sniggered and Haruka sent him a dour look. 

“Rin, why would you think I was ignoring your calls?” Haruka’s expression flattened as Makoto’s brows shot up. “What do you mean you talked to Ha—Haru!” 

Haruka ignored the squawk of his name as he took Makoto’s phone and brought it to his ear. “Rin. You were right. Everything went well. We’re both fine. We’ll see you back in Iwatobi.” He disconnected the call and handed the phone back to Makoto. 

“Haru—” 

“Later. Breakfast now.” Haruka went to the sink to wash his hands and then went to the refrigerator. “Asahi, how many eggs?” 

“Really? Three if you have them,” Asahi answered after Haruka nodded. “Thanks! Just let me call Kisumi and tell him everything’s okay.” 

“Since first sessions are canceled, you might as well invite him too. Ne, Haru?” Makoto smiled sweetly, but Haruka wasn’t fooled by neither the gesture nor Makoto’s mild tone. He knew he’d have explaining to do later. 

“Do what you want,” he replied as he looked back into the fridge, and then he looked over his shoulder again. “Have him bring bread.” 

Asahi’s smile lit his face. “Right!” 

“I’ll get the table, and then I’m going to shower.” 

Asahi snickered, ignoring the glare Haruka sent him over his shoulder as Makoto blushed and hurriedly excused himself. “Sorry, sorry. Ne, I can get it and then get things started it you want to go together.” 

“Asahi!” 

“What? Me and Kisumi do it all the time!”

“I don’t want to hear about that,” Haruka said flatly, but after another half-second, he straightened and closed the refrigerator door. “Makoto, let’s go.” 

“Haru! Ha—wai—we’ll be right back, Asahi!” Makoto finally gave in and called, and Haruka rolled his eyes and gently pushed on Makoto’s back again as Asahi laughed from behind them. He supposed those idiots were another constant, if more like the ocean’s waves than the stillness of His deeper waters, he thought as he considered how they’d been there, had drifted away, and had come back again. But that was alright. Rin had helped him see that that an absence didn’t have to mean a lack of presence, if the connection was strong enough. Asahi and Kisumi. Nagisa and Rei. Ikuya. They were all with him, every day. Water had bound him to them all, even Rin. The only exception was Makoto.

Like the water itself, Makoto had been there long before Haruka had started to swim. Their souls had found each other’s with no conduit to guide or bind them, and Haruka’s heart ached softly, but in a good way, from the truth of the words Makoto had given him when he’d called Makoto his. He turned to Makoto as Makoto shut the door, slid his arms around Makoto’s neck. “Makoto is mine,” he said quietly after silencing Makoto’s whispered reminder that Asahi was _right there_ with a gentle press of his lips, just to hear Makoto say them to him again.

Makoto chuckled softly, happiness dusting his cheeks and sparkling in his eyes. “Always and only,” he promised, dipping his head to return Haruka’s kiss. 

Haruka smiled against Makoto’s mouth. “And Haruka's always and only yours.”


End file.
